Had he come to render New York too small to contain them both?
She skulked in the farthest corner of the lobby, in shadows, not quite round the corner of the elevator shaft—where she could just see and ran least risk of being seen—and waited. But the group on the sidewalk seemed to have settled down to a protracted session. When Quard had finished talking, and the laughter had quieted down, another fixed the attention of the group with a second anecdote, of what nature Joan could well surmise.
Of course, it was only a question of time before Quard would propose a drink.
Then she would be free to proceed to her appointment.
But through some oversight the suggestion remained temporarily in abeyance; and Joan was unlucky in that none of the policemen appeared, who are assigned to the business of keeping actors moving in that neighbourhood.
After a minute or two Quard shifted his position so that he could, by simply lifting his eyes, have looked directly into the lobby.
At this Joan turned in desperation and entered the cage of an elevator, which happened just then to be waiting with an open gate.
There were several theatrical enterprises with offices on one of the upper floors: no reason why Joan shouldn't wait in one of these until it would be safe to venture forth again. There was Arlington's, for instance.
Joan's was no strange figure there. She had long since made several attempts to see Arlington or one of his lieutenants; but her professional cards, borne in to them by a disillusioned office-boy, had educed no other response than "Mist' Arlington says they's nothin' doin' just' present."
But it was as good a place as any for Joan's purpose, and there could be no harm trying again.